


Smiling till the End

by SansyFresh



Series: Angst and Stuff [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, BittyBones, Broken Bones, Emotional Abuse, Gen, Major character death - Freeform, Meek Bitty - Freeform, No comfort Here, Overcrowding Issues, Physical Abuse, Putting Down Bitties, Whump, no fluff here, seriously guys this is just angsty whump, the main character dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 02:00:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19308349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansyFresh/pseuds/SansyFresh
Summary: The Meek had been through a lot, yet thought he'd been on the mend. The people taking care of him don't see it that way.





	Smiling till the End

**Author's Note:**

> Please for the love of God read the tags, this is a lot, _lot_ darker than what I usually write. There's MCD, mentions of abuse and broken bones, and there is no fluff or comfort in this at all. 
> 
> enjoy if you like the dark stuff ;)

He knew they’d been considering it for a while before they actually decided. He’d seen the bitty techs glancing at him when they thought he wasn’t looking, the looks of pity and guilt clearly etched on their faces as they gave him the look they always gave the ones they put down. It wasn’t like he was the first, sometimes things got too crowded at the shelter and, to the humans that took care of them, it seemed more merciful than letting them starve to death. 

But yeah, he knew, he knew what they were planning, especially when the head technician came up with a small blanket in their hands, the one they always used. It was a cool blue, covered in little worn stars in a pale yellow. He looked up, the pencil he’d been holding trembling with his fingers as he met their eyes.

It didn’t take long for them to explain what it was they were going to do, their face remaining stoic even as he broke into sobs. It took a few minutes for him to calm down, for him to scribble on the small notepad they’d given him when he’d been returned that he understood, even if he was scared.

It was a lie. He didn’t understand, not really, not when he’d finally gotten over flinching every time a loud noise crashed around him or one of the techs came too close too quickly. He’d thought he was doing well, that maybe he’d actually have a chance, at readoption, at having an actual family. 

But… he’d also noticed that the shelter was slowly growing over crowded again. There was less food in the daily allotment, and some bitties had already been sent to other, less overpacked shelters in neighboring towns. There was still the problem of taking care of all of them and… according to the technician that was carefully picking him up, mindfully watching his still mending legs, and setting him on the blanket, he was defective.

He’d known no one wanted a bitty that flinched when you picked them up. He’d known that any of the children that came in took one look at his mangled legs and went on to more healthy bitties. A few adults had considered him, but in the end had always picked someone else, someone more suitable to their lifestyle. No one wanted to take the time to help him heal, and apparently that extended to the techs who were supposed to take care of all of them.

He was carefully, slowly picked up, wrapped in the blanket that itched of dust as he was carried to the back room. The tears picked up again as he was set on the counter next to a small needle that dripped a clear blue liquid. The technician explained that the medicine, (and what a bunch of shit, trying to pass it off like a good thing, like a healing thing), would help him fall asleep faster. He nodded even as he sobbed, covering his face with both hands as a cold swipe of alcohol went across the back of his neck, the needle pricking sharply as it slid between his vertebrae. He cried out as the fluid began pumping through his marrow, the cold, invasive feeling making him cry harder.

Then it was over and he was being picked up again, moved across the room and to the door that all bitties feared. He closed his eyes, unwilling for the small, unassuming freezer to be the last thing he saw. No, that would be saved for the darkness that would soon surround him, the cold slowly creeping in until he couldn’t move and the darkness took him.

The tech was talking, the tone of their voice soothing in some strange way, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the sound of his own heaving breaths, or the noisy fear that was running rampant through his skull. All he could do was sit there as he was moved from warm light to cool dark, the final parting words of the tech seared inside his skull as he opened his eyes to the door closing.

“It’ll be okay, little guy.”

And with that the door closed, the cold surrounding him just as the shadows did until he was left in a frigid black void, only the blanket around him as the fluid he’d been injected with moved sluggishly through his marrow, slowly affecting his magic. Gathering the worn cloth closer to his face he sobbed, crying for the lost opportunities, crying for the loss of his life. Crying for all the shit he’d gone through in the past, for all he didn’t get to experience in the future. For him there was no future, not anymore. 

For a crazy moment he thought about attacking the door, using his magic to hobble out and escape the shelter, and maybe the miracle of making it, out on his own. It only took a few breaths of frigid air to convince him otherwise, that they’d just scoop him up and put him back in here. There was no escape, not from fate.

Fate had never been kind to him. His first owner had been a prick, only wanted him for the novelty of having a disabled bitty. As soon as it wasn’t as popular with the man’s friends, he was sent back. The second owner had only wanted a bitty to keep their child entertained, and hadn’t taken the time to look up anything about bitties. He’d been smacked around when she found out that he couldn’t talk, assuming he was refusing out of stubbornness. 

His third owner… was the reason he was here. His legs ached where they’d been broken, the crack in the back of his skull giving him a migraine the longer he sat in the freezer. 

Thinking back on his life was only making him cry, even as his tears began cooling to his face, leaving trails of frozen magic. 

The air was getting harder to breathe, his sockets becoming heavier and heavier as the “medicine” slowly started to take hold, and for a single moment all of the terror and sorrow filled his soul and he was left clutching the blanket until… it all settled. 

This was happening, there was nothing he could do. There was no reason to be afraid of death, not when life had been nothing but unforgiving. If anything he’d finally be able to rest, finally free from pain and the suffering he’d been given by his lot in life. 

Slowly his body began to curl into itself, the blanket wrapped firmly around him as his sockets finally closed, the total darkness almost peaceful as he let himself drift. 

Yeah… this was better than living.


End file.
